


Make Your Own Luck

by BlackHawksChild



Series: Nothing Is True, Everything Is Permitted [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Animus Memories, Assassins vs. Templars, Crossover, Don't Try This At Home, Events of Syndicate, Events of Unity, F/M, Flashbacks, Hidden Relationship, I'm Going to Hell, Married Couple, Married Sex, Post-Rogue, Reunion Sex, Sex, The Animus (Assassin's Creed), Undercover Natasha Romanoff, rated for later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-15 23:19:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5804185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackHawksChild/pseuds/BlackHawksChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war between the Assassins and Templars begun with the death of Abel at the hands of his brother, Cain, and the aftermath of the Human-Isu War. Today, the Templars work under the disguise of Abstergo Industries while the Assassins struggle to survive on the fringes of society. However, the two factions have never been exempt from producing star-crossed lovers who believe they can influence the war to end…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nothing Is True

“Uphold the principles of the Brotherhood. Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent. Hide in plain sight, be one with the crowd. Never compromise the Brotherhood. We work in the dark to serve the light. We are Assassins. Nothing is true, everything is permitted,” the hooded man recited as he made his way through the crowd, looking for his target. Nobody paid attention to him, despite the fact he had his black hood up and was dressed in black in general.

He spotted a flash of red hair, a woman making her way through the crowd. He quickly followed, remaining discrete as the woman stopped to speak with an older man, old enough to be her Grandfather. He looked agitated as she walked away. Suddenly, the old man collapsed to the ground, causing the street to burst into panic.

The hooded man looked around, spotting the red-head as she moved through the panicking crowd. He quickly followed, not wanting his target to escape his sight. Again.

She climbed up a fire escape, momentarily disappearing from his sight as he silently followed her. Once he reached the rood, he hid behind the door alcove, watching her as she stood at the side of the roof.

“It’s taken you long enough to find me, Assassin,” she suddenly called, her voice rich and husky, void of any accent. “You can come out now.”

He growled lowly, angry at himself for not being careful enough. He stepped out from the shadows and approached her. “Templars aren’t that hard to find thanks to Abstergo,” he informed her, hearing her chuckle in response.

“And the Assassins are well hidden due to their small sizes,” she replied, turning to face him. “It’s been a long time, Clint,” she added, smiling sadly at him as he pulled his hood down.

“It has,” Clint answered. “Six months,” he added.

“It feels like it has been longer,” she commented, closing the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head beneath his chin. “I missed you,” she informed him.

“I missed you too, Natasha,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Are you okay?” he asked, kissing her temple softly.

She smiled weakly. “Now, I am. They still believe I work for their Order. So playing Assassin infiltrator works for us.”

“Do they know about me?” he asked, pulling back to cup her face.

“No,” she answered, leaning up and kissing him for the first time in six months. Her hands trailed through his spiky hair, one of his hands buried itself in her hair while his other arm wrapped itself around her waist. “Moy yastreb,” she whispered in her native accent, resting her head against his after breaking the kiss.

“Moya pauk,” he answered, brushing her hair from her face. “Why do I feel like we’re Altäir and Maria at the moment?” he whispered, chuckling.

“Is that something Desmond Miles recorded when he was reliving Altäir’s memories?” Natasha asked, tilting her head to side.

Clint nodded. “Recorded it on his phone. We were able to hack into it and retrieve everything when Abstergo turned it on again.”

Natasha nodded. “How is his father and mother taking his death?” she asked.

“They’re taking it as hard as any parent would. William blames himself.”

“Desmond saved the world. I guess we all wish it meant that he didn’t have to lose his life to do it,” she commented, brushing her hands over his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. “I’m not leaving you, Tasha.”

“That doesn’t change the possibility of someone taking you from me,” she whispered, lifting her head to look him in the eye. “The lives we live. We don’t have a choice if someone wants to end our lives.”

Clint frowned; Natasha sounded tired. “We’ll fight everyone who comes after us together, Tasha. Hell, if you wanted we can leave the Assassins and Templars behind us. All you have to do is say the word and I’d do what you want me to do.”

“Shay Cormac’s memories were broadcasted to the Brotherhood, Clint. He showed us what would happen if either the Templars or Assassins continued to hunt the pieces of Eden.”

“He also showed us that sometimes the wrong people are put in charge. Achilles was stubborn and didn’t see what had happened and wasn’t willing to listen. He wasn’t the best choice to lead. Shay may have betrayed the Brotherhood but his reasons justify his actions, in my opinion,” Clint responded.

Natasha smirked slightly. “You’re showing sympathy towards Templars. Barton. You sure you shouldn’t be the double agent?” she teased.

“Achilles’ order caused Cormac to cause the Lisbon earthquake in 1755, killing thousands as Lisbon was levelled. His reason to doubt and turn against the Creed is justified,” he answered. “I believe in the Creed and the teachings Desmond revealed from his time in the Animus. I also share Shay’s belief that innocents should not be sacrificed to achieve our tenants and desire. Therefore, yes, Shay did betray the Brotherhood. But we cannot hold him solely responsible for his actions.”

“ _Life’s hardest choices are the ones that force you to question your own moral code_ ,” she quoted. “Respect the ones who have gone before us; they have already lived their own pain.”

Clint nodded and kissed her chastely. “You’ve had enough pain in your life too, Tasha,” he whispered. “Whatever you want I will do,” he promised.

“Finish our mission first then I’ll let you know, yastreb,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Clint smiled and kissed her, slipping his tongue past her lips as she stepped up on her toes. “Should we try to bring this to a more private setting?” he mumbled against her lips.

Natasha smirked, breaking the kiss to look at him. “Not feeling adventurous today, yastreb?” she teased, her voice lower and huskier than usual.

“My wife’s body is for my eyes only,” he replied, his voice low.

Natasha placed a kiss to his jaw. “Moy yastreb, you have no reason to worry,” she whispered. “I only have eyes for you too,” she promised. “Do you have an idea where we can go for privacy?”

Clint smirked and brought his hands to her hips. “Don’t I always. It’s a husband’s job, isn’t it?” he whispered with a cheeky grin.

“Assassins know the best places to have sex without being caught,” she teased. “What other skill sets have you been hiding from me?”

“There’s a reasons for ‘ _Nothing Is True_ ’, Tasha,” he whispered with a smug smirk. “Society, nowadays, expects people to brag about their prowess in bed. I, personally, don’t feel it is necessary,” he answered. “I prefer keeping it for you.”

Natasha smirked. “You’re a good husband,” she whispered, pecking his lips. “Now, find us somewhere we can go to have a more _intimate_ reunion, yastreb.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered…


	2. Everything Is Permitted

Over the years as an Assassin, Clint had accumulated a vast wealth. He was easily able to fund his operations as an Assassin. And spoil his wife when they could get time alone together.

As the hotel door shut behind them, Clint caught Natasha and lifted her, pinning her to the door. She tried to being her hands to his hair but he caught her wrists, pinning them above her head. She moaned into their kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him close to her.

Clint broke the kiss, trailing his lips down the side of her neck. He pushed his hips against hers, letting his now free hand move to pull off her leather jacket. He tossed it to the ground behind him, smiling against her skin when he recognised the necklace Natasha was wearing; her wedding necklace.

Natasha felt his smile. "I can't wear my rings so this is as close as I can," she whispered, arching into his touch as he palmed her breasts through her clothes.

"I still have my tattoo and ring," he informed her. "Wearing your necklace is more than enough for me, Tasha."

She freed one of her hands, bringing it to the nape of his neck. "Once the mission is complete, I'm wearing my rings. And we can go off grid. Go to the Caribbean, or Spain. Even Alaska if you want," she offered, making him look up at her. "I love you," she whispered, kissing him softly. "I love you, Clint."

"I love you too, Tasha," he whispered. He pulled her away from the door and carried her into the bedroom of the hotel room. Her offer had changed his desire to have a fast, desperate reunion; he wanted to draw this out show her how much he had missed her. He laid her gently on the bed, pulling away to strip himself of his hoodie and T-shirt before climbing onto the bed as Natasha pulled her T-shirt and camisole off.

As her tops hit the floor, Natasha pulled Clint down on top of her, her hands cupping his face while he braced both arms either side of her head. She could taste the love and desperation from her husband's kiss. The months he had worried about her put at ease with her in his arms. She slowly brought one of her arms behind her back, quickly undoing her bra with a flick of her wrist. She pulled off the lace material quickly, wanting to feel his skin on hers as soon as was possible.

Clint broke the kiss and made his way down her body, stopping at her chest. He kissed along her right breast until his lips found her nipple. He sucked hard on the puckered skin, making Natasha arch up into his mouth, moaning his name.

One of her hands kept a hold on his neck while the other dug into the skin of his back. He slipped one hand down, undoing her jeans and tugging them down as she raised her hips to help him. He switched his mouth to her other nipple, grinning when she bucked her hips and moaned in reply.

Clint tossed her jeans behind him, off the bed, pulling away from her breasts and kissed his way further down her body, nipping playfully on her skin. Natasha's hands found his hair as he placed kisses on the insides of her thighs, his hands coming up to grasp either side of her panties. He looked up at her as he slowly pulled the fabric down her lean legs. He tossed them to join her jeans before he spread her legs and flattened his body against the bed. He hooked one leg over his shoulder and used his other hand to stroke her sex as teasingly as he could.

Natasha let herself sink into the mattress as Clint continued to slowly tease her, letting her husband do as he pleased. She arched off the bed when he suddenly planted his mouth on her, using his hand to spread her sex for his tongue to explore. He used his other hand to pin her hips to the mattress, not allowing her to escape the onslaught of his oral attack. She gasped and moaned, pleading with him to show her mercy and let her come. But he had other ideas.

Clint used his tongue to swipe broad strokes over her sex, grinning when she bucked her hips in reply. He pushed two fingers inside her and wrapped his lips around her clit, earning a loud moan of approval from his wife.

Natasha reached up and grabbed the pillows as Clint went down on her. He kept her pinned to the mattress as he crooked his fingers in a come-hither motion, making Natasha scream as she came hard around his fingers. He sucked on her clit and grinned when she bucked her hips up, her body sensitive from her orgasm.

Eventually, Natasha pushed at his head, the pleasure too much. Clint gave her one more broad swipe of his tongue before kissing his way back up her body. She moaned into his mouth as she tasted herself. She cupped the back of his head, deepening the kiss while her other hand tugged at the belt on Clint's jeans.

Clint reached down and helped her rid of his jeans and boxers. Natasha smirked into the kiss when he growled as she wrapped her hand around his cock. He broke the kiss and buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing heavily as she stroked him slowly.

"Tasha," he groaned, lifting his head to look her in the eye. "Please, let me make love to you," he begged, his breath hitching in his throat when she tightened her hand around his cock.

Natasha kissed him as she positioned him at her entrance. "Please," she whispered into his mouth, smiling as he deepened the kiss. "Please, make love to me."

Clint slowly slid inside her, both moaning as his length stretched her. Natasha broke the kiss and gasped as he paused, waiting for her to adjust to him. Clint peppered kisses over her face, bringing one hand to interlace his fingers with hers. "I missed you," he whispered as he pressed his lips to hers.

"I missed you too," she whispered, bringing her free hand to cup his jaw. "I missed being with you, with and without the sex," she added, earning a smug grin from her husband, "And you can move now," she offered, kissing him as she busked her hips against his.

Clint groaned and begun to pull out until only the head of his cock was inside her. Then he pushed back in, tightening his hold on her hand. He brought his other hand down and lifted her leg up to her chest.

Natasha wrapped her other leg around his waist, her lips moving under his as he drove his hips into hers. Her hand moved from where she had it placed on his face to his shoulder, her nails digging as he fucked her into the mattress.

"Clint. Clint," she gasped as she moved her hips in time with his. "Please. Clint, please."

He moved to his knees, thrusting harder with the change of angle, making Natasha cry out in pleasure at the change. She threw her head back, her walls clenching around his cock rhythmically. He released his hold on her hand and brought his now free hand to grasp her ass firmly.

Her free hand came down to his other shoulder, digging into his skin as he bent his back so he could take one of her nipples into his mouth.

"Clint," she sobbed out, feeling herself grow closer and closer to falling over the edge. "Clint."

He simply sucked on her nipple harder, lifting his eyes to watch her as she came apart in his arms, her walls clenching his cock hard as she reached her climax. He thrust into her a few more times before letting her clenching walls pull him into his own orgasm. He buried himself deep inside her as he found his release.

Natasha wrapped her arms around him as he collapsed on top of her, smiling into his hair as he buried his face in his neck. Clint released her leg from his chest, smiling when she tangled her legs with his. He wrapped his arms under her back, rolling them over so he was no longer crushing her. He pressed his lips to her temple, smiling as she hummed contently in his arms. "I love you, Tasha," he whispered against her skin.

"I love you too, Clint," she whispered against the skin of his neck where she had placed her head. "I have two days of reprieve before I'm needed to go to Abstergo Entertainment," she informed him.

"Well, we can arrange a flight for you," he started, smirking as Natasha lifted her head to look at him. "But I want to pretend that Montreal doesn't exist in this New York hotel for the next two days," he added with a smile.

Natasha grinned and leaned up to kiss him. "Convince me, Hawkeye," she purred against his lips.

"Gladly," he responded, rolling them again…

* * *

_**Istanbul, Turkey, 2004…** _

" _The crossroads of the world. Many generations of men have ruled this city, but they have never subdued her. She always bounces back." – Yusuf Tazim regarding Constantinople in 1511._

_Natalia quietly made her way through the streets of Istanbul, keeping her eyes open for any possible threat, her handler had informed her that morning that there was an Assassin was in the city, tracking her._

_She dived down an alleyway, away from the main street. She checked her hidden blades under the cover of the dark alley before taking out her twin guns. Suddenly, an arrow whizzed past her ear. She dived behind a bin, cursing herself. She heard her assailant notch another arrow, otherwise quiet._

_Natalia grabbed a stone and tossed it further down the alleyway. Her assailant fired a shot. Judging the angle, Natalia stood up and shot upwards. A dark figure ducked down so Natalia took her chance and ran down the alleyway into the dark of the night. Her assailant had the high ground; she knew which of her battles to pick…_

* * *

_Clint groaned as he hit the cement roof. He mentally checked himself for injuries as he heard his target run down the alleyway. He slowly pulled himself off the ground and notched another arrow, aiming towards the far end of the alleyway. But his target was already gone._

" _Fuck it!" he cursed, un-notching his arrow and knocking down his retractable compound bow. He took a deep breath to focus himself, letting himself step back from focusing solely on the mission. He went through the file the Assassins had managed to compose about his target:_

' _Name: Natalia Alianova Romanova.  
_ _Born: 22 November 1984, Volgograd, Soviet Union.  
_ _Affiliation(s): Templars (1995-Present).  
_ _Weapon(s): Dual Hidden Blades  
_ _Poison  
_ _Knives (Throwing + Combat)  
_ _Glocks (Dual-Wield).  
_ _Extra Notes Natalia Romanova was born to Assassin parents, Dmitry Romanov and Sofia Romanova. The Romanovs were murdered in a house fire in 1995 with Natalia being the only survivor out of the family of four. Natalia was immediately adopted by Russian Templar Grand Master, Ivan Petrovitch. Since 1995, Natalia has been raised in the Templar Order.'_

_Clint paused, frowning in thought. His target had been eleven-years-old when she lost her parents and brother. She was now two months shy of turning twenty. For almost nine years, Natalia had, most likely, been informed that her family had been murdered by the Assassins. He groaned, rubbing his eyes with his palms: why did he always end up feeling sympathic for some of his targets?_

" _Let's go find ourselves a spider," he muttered to himself, sinking into the shadows as he climbed down from the roof…_

* * *

_Natalia arrived at her hotel room and immediately went to the bathroom. She caught sight of the cut on her shoulder where her neck met her shoulder. It wasn't deep enough to cause any medical problems but it would be annoying until it healed properly. She grabbed the first aid kit she had stashed under the bathroom sink. She quickly cleaned the cut before making her way back into the room._

_Checking the time, she realised that she had an hour before she had to be downstairs to meet a Templar ally of the Turkish government. She went over to her closet and pulled out her black evening dress…_

* * *

_Clint finished buttoning his suit jacket, looking up to check himself in the mirror. He was able to hide his Hidden Blades under his suit, something he was grateful for since he could not bring his gun, knife or bow. Thankful he had forgone a tie, he grabbed his wallet and hotel key, he made his way out of his room. He was aware his target was meeting with a Templar-allied Government official for Turkey. He had orders to terminate the official and new orders to simply interact with Natalia: he had convinced his superiors to re-think their orders to kill the red-head._

_Entering the large dining-room of the hotel, Clint made his way over to the bar, checking his surroundings for either of his targets. He found the government official at the bar, sitting alone. He sat down beside him and ordered a drink, paying attention to the nervous man beside him. The official was muttering in Arabic, mostly about how he would be killed of the '_ Brotherhood' _ever found about his true job. He had his head in his hands._

_Clint took a drink before subtly taking a wile of poison out of his jacket pocket. As the bartender walked by with a new drink for the official, Clint slipped the poison into the drink subtly, stashing the vile back in his pocket. As the official downed his drink in one go, Clint said to him, "_ _Barış Nazar Yassin içinde kalan." ("Rest in peace, Nazar Yassin.")_

_Nazar Yassin_ _looked up, petrified as his eyes landed on the Assassin. "No..." he whispered, looking at his glass before standing up and walking towards the bathroom, stumbling._

_Clint ordered another drink as the official disappeared from his view. It was only a matter of time before he collapsed due to_ natural _causes. He sat there for about twenty minutes before he found Natalia sinking into the chair beside him, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Clint spared her a look before downing the rest of his drink. He signalled for the bartender. "I'll have another. And whatever the lady wants," he informed him, making Natalia look up in surprise and suspicion. She narrowed her eyes at Clint, judging him to see what he wanted from her. "You look stressed," Clint explained honestly._

_Natalia slowly turned to the bartender and made her order before turning back to Clint. "Any other reason to buy a drink for a lady you don't even know?" she asked, watching him carefully._

_Clint turned so he was facing her. "You're dressed in a lovely evening dress, you appear stressed out, there is a cut on your neck… So you either got into a fight with your boyfriend, probably because he's jealous, and he got a bit too violent, so you came down without him. Or someone tried to mug you before you arrived here and you've been stood up," he stated with a shrug. "Well, they're the first two scenarios that I can think of among others," he added._

_Natalia let out a breath of a laugh. "The latter," she offered, taking her drink as the bartender served them. "A work friend was supposed to meet with me to discuss new ideas for the company. But he seems to have deserted me," she told him._

_Clint raised an eyebrow. "He left you on your own?" he asked, disbelief colouring his voice. "Is he mad?!"_

_Natalia snorted. "Yes. He is mad. But he's good for the company so I say nothing," she replied._

_Clint shook his head. "If he worked for me, I'd fire him for leaving a female co-worker on her own," he stated seriously._

_Natalia raised an eyebrow at him. "Think I can't take care of myself, Mister…?"_

" _Clint Barton," he offered. "And no, I think you can take care of yourself. But it's common courtesy to make sure that a woman is in a group or with a male friend to warn off most attackers."_

_Natalia smirked. "Well, Mr. Barton, I may not be left so lonely after all," she informed him with a smug smirk._

" _Well, Miss…" he started, cocking his head to the side._

" _Natasha Romanoff," she informed him._

" _Well, Miss Romanoff, I will enjoy your company for as long as you're willing to give me," he replied with a smile…_

* * *

_Natasha gasped softly as she let Clint push her up against the door of his hotel room. Their lips met hungrily as the red-head wrapped her small but dangerous arms around his strong neck, pulling his body firmly against hers. Clint groaned as he took his key card out of his pocket, fumbling to open the door as Natasha continued to distract him with her perfectly shaped body._

_"If you want us to stop, Natasha, you need to tell me now," he whispered against her luscious red lips, pulling away slightly so they could catch their breaths. He finally managed to slip the key into the lock, turning it and letting them inside. Natasha pulled him against her again as the door shut behind them, kissing him deeply before breaking it._

_"I want this. If there's something I don't like, I'll tell you," Natasha whispered in reply before capturing his lips with hers, attacking his lips hungrily. Clint returned the kiss just as hungrily and slowly brought his hands to the splits in Natasha's evening dress. He grabbed her thighs, lifting her up and letting her wrap her perfect legs around his waist. He carried her towards the bed, both of the forgetting about everything outside of that hotel room. The outside world didn't need to know about them sleeping with enemy…_


	3. The Secret Crusade

_**Montreal, September 2015…** _

Natasha covered her mouth as she yawned, leaning against the wall of the elevator. She opened her eyes as Bishop's new recruit stepped into the elevator, looking pale from time in the Animus.

"You okay?" she asked, making the analyst-turned-Assassin turn to look at her.

"Miss Romanoff," he greeted, nodding at her. "On your way up to see the boss?" he asked, standing opposite her.

"Yeah. She wants me to look over some of the data recorded about Shay Cormac and Arno Dorian. Compare it to the information we were able to recover from Subject 17 and his ancestors," Natasha replied. "You?"

"New projects she wants me to look at. Something about London and twins."

"Sounds exciting," Natasha commented. "You think Melanie's being jumpy lately?"

The Initiate nodded. "Ever since Olivier went missing. It could be just that she's nervous about being the big boss here now. Who knows what's going on in her head at the moment."

Natasha nodded, pleased that Bishop's recruit knew not to reveal anything when there were cameras everywhere. "Let's try to make her comfortable as our new boss," the red-head stated as the elevator, waving at the secretary as they approached the office.

The Initiate stood at the door when Juhani Osto Berg came into view, speaking with Melanie. Natasha didn't bother knocking as she entered the office. "Arguing again?" she asked, making the two of them turn to look at her.

"Americans are too compassionate and seen to have influenced their closest neighbours," Juhani informed her with a scold.

Melanie made a noise of protest. "It's hard enough to find analysts willing to go into the Animus, Juhani. Pushing them too hard doesn't help anyone."

"Melanie is right, Sir. A person can only do so much time in the Animus before they lose their sanity. Desmond Miles may have been able to reverse the effects during his time in the Animus following the events in Rome in 2012 but he had Assassin DNA in his blood, dating back to the time of Altäir at least. We can't expect anyone to risk their sanity for respect. When we could use their minds to further our cause," Natasha argued. "Miles' recovery could have been just a fluke and since he's now dead, we can't do tests to prove otherwise. Take what you are given."

Juhani turned to look her in the eye. "Just because your uncle is the Russian Grand Master doesn't mean you are my superior," he warned her.

"No. It doesn't," she agreed, stepping forward. "But it is because of me that your daughter is still alive. You should lsten to me when I give you advice, Berg," she added, narrowing her eyes at him.

Juhani paled before he nodded. "Fine. I want as much info from our analysts as we can get. In the time recommended by our medical team," he stated before walking out of the office.

"Thank you," Melanie said to Natasha as the door shut. "He wouldn't listen to me."

Natasha shrugged. "He was trying to compromise the Order. He just needed to be reminded why he joined in the first place."

Melanie nodded. "Did you come here to put Juhani in his place or is there another reason?"

"You wanted me to compare data from Subject 17's memories, the pirate Edward Kenway, Shay Cormac, and Arno Dorian," Natasha stated. "I was told I need your signature to copy the files for work at my apartment."

Melanie groaned and nodded. "You have the necessary security access and they still need me to sign off on things. I'm beginning to think I should give them a list of people who don't need my signature."

"It would make your life and workload easier," Natasha agreed. "With Olivier gone, you are the only one who knows what way the company should be go."

Melanie smiled slightly. "Thank you. I'll have a list drawn up tonight. You won't need my signature but just e-mail me beforehand so I can back you up."

Natasha nodded; sometimes the world gave you gifts that you had to grasp with both hands…

* * *

Clint sighed as he sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes as he took a small break from his deeper research into the memories they had recovered from Desmond's Animus and Shay's memories for the Assassins to see, William Miles had been determined to find any clues in the main research to locate pieces of Eden so they could be kept out of the hands of the Templars. His phone beeped, making the archer-turned-Assassin groan, thinking it was new information/orders from William. He picked up the phone, his mood lightening immediately when he saw it was Natasha's number. He opened the message, smirking when it revealed his wife dressed in red La Perla, winking at the camera.

"Present," it read, letting Clint know she was okay and had managed to get him further information for his research.

"You spoil me," he text back, smiling as he opened up his email to message Kate to collect his order when he got confirmation of its departure and arrival.

"Someone has to," came her reply, making him smirk; his complaints about too much pressure had not gone unnoticed. "How is Lucky?"

"He misses you. He sleeps on the bed with me. At the end of your side. Whining."

"Like you?"

"I'm insulted."

"Dogs are cute. Most of the time."

"You do get territorial ;)".

"… I don't know if I should be proud or embarrassed."

"I'll let you decide, yastreb."

"When do you get time off again?"

"End of November. I have research to finish. Five weeks should do."

"And after then?"

"We'll see. New project in the mix. Don't know if it will take off or not."

"You're killing me, Natasha."

"I'm sorry. I will try to make it easier for you."

"Just be safe and come home. I can't ask for more."

"Of course, moy yastreb. I love you."

"I love you too, Tasha."

* * *

Clint looked up at Kate as she entered the apartment, Lucky jumping up to greet her. "Do you have the package?" he asked, pleading that he would have something better to work with.

Kate pulled her rucksack off her back and pulled out an A4-shaped package with the height of two full arch ring-binders. "This better be worth it, Clint," she informed him, handing him the package.

"I hope so too," he answered, tearing through the top of the package carefully with a knife. Kate frowned but said nothing as her mentor pulled out about seven files worth of sheets. "And this is why my source is amazing," he informed his apprentice. "Well, one reason," he added.

"Why do I have a feeling this source is more than a source?" Kate asked with a knowing smirk.

Clint returned her smirk. "If I told you otherwise, I'd have to kill you," he answered. "How is America Chavez?" he asked, directing the conversation away from his 'source's' real identity.

Kate grinned, knowing exactly what Clint was doing. "She's good. She has a match this weekend. That I am going to in order to support my girlfriend," the brunet replied with a smile.

Clint grinned. "You're whipped," he teased.

Kate chuckled. "Shut up, Barton," she replied. "What about that red-head you're seeing?"

"What about her?" Clint replied, cocking his head to the side. Knowing Kate's older sister, it wouldn't surprise him if Kate knew who Natasha was.

"Are you still seeing her?" Kate asked as if it was obvious what she was asking.

"Yes, I am," he answered, rising his eyebrow at his apprentice. "Why?"

Kate grinned. "You're in a good mood when you're getting laid regularly," she stated.

Clint sighed, shaking his head. If only she knew. "And what mood am I currently?"

"In between," she replied. "It's like you're getting laid but not as much as you were five years ago." Five years ago being when he first took Kate in.

"Her job keeps her moving around. We take what we can," Clint answered honestly. "And Lucky likes her so I know she's not a Templar."

Kate grinned. "I wasn't going to ask," she lied.

Clint raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Of course you weren't," he commented. "I need to go back to work. Do you have anything else to tell me?"

Kate shook her head. "No. Susan hasn't had any update from her source yet so they're still doing research. If she gets anything new she'll pass it on."

"Okay. Then I'm sorry, Bishop, but I have to kick you out," he informed her.

Kate made a face of mock-offence. "You're cruel, Barton."

Clint shrugged. "So is life. Now get out."

* * *

Natasha sighed, rubbing her eyes as she leaned back from her notes. Currently, she was looking through the notes of Desmond Miles' first time in the Animus, exploring the memories of Altair Ibn-La'Ahad; the Assassin responsible for re-organising the Assassin Brotherhood. The man had been arrogant at the start of Desmond's time in the Animus, mellowing out as the memories progressed. His Codex gave his views on the previous ways of the Brotherhood, his views on the Apple of Eden, the war between the Templars and Assassins. There were diagrams and written words by the long-dead Mentor. What Natasha could not understand was how Altair linked up with the Assassins outside of Desmond's memories? How did Ezio and the Kenways link with them?

She looked up and thought for a moment. Connor Kenway, Shea Cormac and Arno Dorian all lived around the same time, during the Age of Political Revolutions. That was their link. Connor was the grandson of the Assassin, Edward Kenway, and son of the Templar, Haytham Kenway; another link. But the Kenways and Auditore were Desmond's paternal ancestors and Altair had been his maternal ancestor. All with triple Helix DNA which gave them Isu ancestry. And all had a connection to a Piece of Eden. But those four links did not answer the ' _why?_ '.

"I hope Clint is having more luck with this," she murmured to herself. If her husband could find the link, they might have found a way to end the war between the Assassins and Templars…

* * *

 

Clint rubbed his temple as he read Altair's words: " _When I was very young, I was foolish to believe that our Creed would bring an end to these conflicts. If only I had the humility to say to myself, I have seen enough for one life, I have done my part. Then again, there is no greater glory that fighting to find the truth._ " He frowned. Altair's older self knew that the Creed would never bring peace to the world.

"But the Creed is simply a way to find it," Clint whispered to himself. "Altair's Crusade was to reorganise the Brotherhood into what is the basis of it is today."

Clint closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Altair's Codex questioned the ironies of the Brotherhood: " _What follows are the three ironies of the Assassin Order: (1) Here we seek to promote peace, but murder is our means. (2) Here we seek to open the minds of men, but require obedience to a master and set of rules. (3) Here we seek to reveal the danger of blind faith, yet we are practitioners ourselves._ " That was page four of the Codex. Page six revealed the decision to change the customs of the Brotherhood. There were thirty pages, all discussing what actions the Assassins should follow, disregarding that of the past. Clint leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. With the re-emergence of Juno, a member of the First Civilisation, Abstergo was desperately looking for those who possessed the ability of the Eagle Sense – the dormant Human Sixth Sense that some had managed to master.

Clint opened his eyes, letting his own Eagle Sense open. He noticed Lucky's blue aura, making him smile. He looked back at the notes Natasha had sent him. Every one of her fingerprints was highlighted blue on the sheets. He blinked again and focused his vision back to normal before picking up Altair's drawing of his wife, Maria Thorpe. She died because of greed and jealousy in the Brotherhood; a female Templar-turned-Assassin. "I won't let the same happen to Natasha," he promised himself…

* * *

_**Budapest, Hungary, 2004…** _

_Clint smiled as Natasha pushed him down into the bed, leaning down and kissing him slowly. They had been doing this dance for six months now, taking whenever they were in the same country. Now they were in the Hungarian capital, in a hotel room. Clint slowly ran his hands up along her back, under the fabric of her camisole as their lips and tongues met in a lazy kiss._

_Natasha pulled back and pulled her camisole over her head along with her bra before leaning back down and kissing Clint deeply. He grinned into the kiss, sliding his hands to her breasts. He teased her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, earning a moan of approval from his lover._

_Natasha gripped the hem of his shirt as he teased her nipples. She wanted him naked but he was enjoying teasing her and making her wait. "Please," she whispered, breaking the kiss. "You can take your time once we're both naked," she offered._

_Clint seemed to think about it before he nodded, lifting his arms above his head so she could pull his top over his head. He sat up and claimed her lips as he worked with her to get their pants off as quickly as possible._

_Once they were naked, Clint laid back and rolled them so he had Natasha beneath him. He broke their kiss and slowly kissed his way down her neck, nipping and sucking on her skin as he moved. Natasha moaned and bit her bottom lip as he kissed his way further down. He wrapped his lips around one of her nipples and used his hand to tease the other. She arched up into his touch, letting her lover wrap his free arm under her back._

_Clint switched his lips to her other nipple, smiling as Natasha moaned his name loudly in response. He straddled her hips and pushed gently so he could pin her to the mattress. He pulled his lips away from her breasts, smiling as he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "You told me that I could take my time with you once we were naked," he whispered huskily._

_Natasha swallowed and nodded, relaxing into the mattress. She relaxed her hands under his hold, smiling when he realised what she was doing; she was trusting him not to hurt her._

" _Thank you, Tasha," Clint whispered before kissing Natasha deeply, smiling when Natasha moaned into his mouth. The red-head wrapped her legs around his own, pulling him closer to her. "Let me take care of you tonight," he whispered as he brought his lips to her left ear, slowly kissing his way along her jaw. He blew gently on her now wet skin, making his lover squirm under his touch._

" _Please, Clint," she gasped as he moved his lips to her pulse, her weak spot as he sucked on her skin. "Please, please," she begged, not really sure what she was begging him for. Clint smirked slightly as he marked her skin with love bites, slowly making his way down her body._

" _I've got you," he promised. He brought his lips to Natasha's chest, leaving more marks on her skin, grinning smugly when the red-haired beauty moaned his name in response._

_Natasha gasped in pleasure as Clint took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking and nipping on the erect nub teasingly. He let go of her hands, grinning up at the red-head as she brought her hands to his head, her fingers threading through his spiky hair. She tugged on the short strands when he brought his lips to her other breast, giving it the same pleasure as he had to its twin._

_"Oh God. Yes. Yes. Yes. Please," Natasha moaned, making Clint smirk against her chest as he sucked and tugged on her nipple with his lips and teeth. At the same time, he massaged her other nipple between his thumb and index finger, tugging every now and again._

_Clint let go of her nipple with a wet pop, grinning at Natasha as he brought his lips back up to her ear. He smirked when she shivered at the feeling of his breath in her ear. "Keep moaning like that, Tasha, and I promise I'll make sure you can't walk straight for a week," he whispered huskily in Russian, grinning when Natasha moaned her approval into his ear._

_"Please, Clint," Natasha moaned before gasping as he grinded his thigh down against her cunt._

_"Mmmm. Natasha. You're so wet for me," Clint whispered as he brought his left hand down, looking for something to restrain Natasha's hands to the bed so he could continue his actions without her hands distracting him._

_"Please. Clint. I want you. I want you so much," Natasha moaned as Clint lowered his head to take her left nipple back into his mouth. He pulled on the erect nub with his teeth lightly, making his red-haired lover cry out his name in pleasure at the sensation. He grinned as he continued to grind his right thigh against Natasha's sex, using his left hand to palm her right breast. He used his right to bring the Russian's bra up to the headboard, making sure she was distracted with his lips so she wouldn't notice what he was planning to do to her._

_"Clint. Fuck. Clint," Natasha gasped before Clint suddenly lifted her hands up back up to the headboard and tying her down to the bed. She groaned at her lover's actions, tugging on her restraints to test them; if she wanted to get free, Clint had left her room to manoeuvre out of the fabric of her bra._

_"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised, smiling at her softly as he stroked her sternum affectionately, watching her slowly relax back into his touch._

_Natasha slowly nodded and watched Clint carefully as he brought his lips to her stomach, pressing soft wet kisses over her soft skin, smiling up at her tenderly as his hands rested on hips. He slowly brought his left hand to the apex of her thighs, slowly running two fingers along her slit, the calluses of his thumb teasing her clit with perfect precision, earning a loud moan of approval from the red-head._

_He brought his lips back to Natasha's chest. He grinned at his lover when she moaned and bucked her hips upwards as he slipped three fingers inside her tight pussy. "You're so tight and wet, Tasha. Is that all for me?" he whispered softly against her skin._

" _Yes, Clint, yes," she moaned, tossing her head back, her voice a breathless promise. He curled his fingers inside her, changing the pace every now and again. He earned whimpers, moans and gasps from his lover. He kissed his way down her body until he was face-to-face with her cunt, his fingers still working her sex. She whimpered when he wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking hard._

_Natasha moaned and gasped as Clint worked her lower lips. He pulled his fingers from her and replaced them with his tongue, making her cry out and buck her hips up into his mouth. He used one hand to pin her hips to the mattress, his other hand spreading her sex for better access._

_Clint moaned against her, using his thumb to rub her clit. Everything about Natasha was intoxicating; her personality, her body, her confident yet almost shy outlook on feelings. The more he got a taste of her, the more addicted to her he became. When he was with her he forgot about everything but them; there was no Assassin-Templar was, not every one of his friends was being kidnapped or murdered every time he looked at his phone. Natasha reminded him to breathe and take time for himself – she was refreshing. And he planned to make the most of the time they had together._

_He pushed two fingers back inside her along with his tongue, grinning as she pulsed around him, coming hard. She gripped at her restraints, sobbing out his name as the waves of her orgasm rocked through her. He worked her through her orgasm until she was too sensitive for any more, kissing his way up her body until he reached her lips. He claimed her lips softly as she rode out her climax._

" _Clint," she managed to gasp as she came down from her high. He pulled away from her lips and grinned smugly as she breathed heavily. "Please let me touch you," she whispered breathlessly._

_Clint kissed her lightly and released her hands. She immediately brought them to his hair and neck, pulling jim closer as she deepened the kiss. He balanced his weight on his elbows, not wanting to crush her, kissing her back just as hungrily and desperately._

_When the need to breathe was required, she broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his. "Clint, please fuck me," she begged, moaning as he brought his lips to her neck. "What do you want me to do, Tasha?" he teased even as he moved to do as she wanted._

" _Please. Please fuck me," she begged, bucking her hips up to his. She whimpered as his cock slipped between her wet folds, teasing her further. "Clint, please."_

_Clint caught her lips and slowly pushed inside her. She moaned loudly into his mouth. One of her hands when to his shoulders, her nails digging in as he bottomed out inside her, her legs coming up to wrap around her waist. He kissed her deeply and waited for her to give him the go-ahead to move._

_Natasha fisted her hand in his hair, pulling back briefly, breaking the kiss, to whisper, "Please move."_

" _Yes, Ma'am," he whispered, slowly pulling out of her before pushing back inside her. She kissed him, smiling in between moans and gasps as they rocked together towards their orgasms. He kept his weight balanced on one elbow while he brought the other to cup her thigh and use it as leverage to thrust inside her. It wasn't long before they were both on the edge of coming._

" _Clint. Clint," Natasha repeated over and over like a mantra. "Please, Clint."_

" _Come for me, Tasha," he whispered against her lips. He hitched her knee over the crook of his elbow, thrusting deeper inside her at the change of angle._

_Natasha tossed her head back and screamed as she came, her walls clenching hard around her lover's length._

_Clint buried his face in Natasha's shoulder, groaning her name as he drove himself deep inside her and came hard inside her. He tried to keep his weight off of her but failed, collapsing into her arms as they rode out their respective orgasms._

_Natasha brought her hands up and trailed her hands through his sweaty hair, turning her head to kiss his temple softly. He smiled against her skin before slowly rolling them over so she could lie on top of him without him crushing her with his weight._

" _I could stay like this for the rest of my life and not complain," he whispered softly._

_Natasha smiled and nuzzled his neck with her cheek. "We still need food," she mumbled against his chest._

" _Room service," Clint answered, earning a chuckle. He kissed the crown of her head. "Would you stay with me if I asked?" he whispered._

_Natasha lifted her head to look at him. "Are you asking me?" she replied, her eyes wide._

_Clint kissed her. "Yes," he answered against her lips. "I'm asking you to stay with me," he whispered._

_Natasha kissed him back before breaking the kiss, resting her head on his shoulder. She bit her bottom lip and thought about it; the Templar Order promoted their members to have as normal a life as possible.. Could she have a normal life with Clint? Making a decision, she answered, "Yes, Clint, I'll stay with you."_

_Clint smiled, kissing her again. He'd go on a secret crusade to keep her safe…_


	4. Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anything within this story confuses you, please go to 'assassinscreed.wikia.com/wiki/'. Every reference is explained there in better words than I could ever use or think of – even if I'm studying English :)
> 
> So… Here's where things get slightly interesting ;)

" _Never be ashamed of a scar. It simply means you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you." – Unknown_

_**New York, September 2015** _

Clint looked at the bio-schematics of the ancestors of Desmond Miles. Altair and Ezio had the same facial scars as Desmond. The others had facial scars but not in the exact spots. The others Abstergo had researched – Shay Cormac and Arno Dorian – had no blood relation to Desmond. He could understand why they traced Desmond's ancestors and Cormac and Dorian for their influence on the Assassin Brotherhood and the Templar Order but he was still no closer to figuring out the connection between the two and the ancestors of Miles other than the time they lived in.

Clint groaned as realisation hit him. They all had a connection to a Piece of Eden; all of those had been researched had Isu blood, explaining the various styles of Eagle Sense, therefore making the target of Abstergo research focused on people who were immune to the effects of the Pieces of Eden. He grabbed a sheet discussing the nature and history of the Pieces of Eden; ' _The Pieces of Eden were technologically advanced devices created by the First Civilization (Isu) for various purposes. Each possessed unique properties suited to the purposes for which it was designed, with some capable of bending the thoughts of one or more individuals to the will of the user._ '[1] Clint sat down as he continued to read, knowing he was going to be there for a while...

* * *

 

Natasha looked up as Melanie entered her office. "Hi, Boss. What's up?" she asked, leaning away from her work.

"We have a lead on a possible researcher. He has Isu blood and seems to be able to use it to his advantage," Melanie informed her, handing the Russian a file. "We want to see what you think of him and whether or not you would be willing to bring him in."

Natasha had known her time at Abstergo had been too good to be true. As expected, she opened the file to find a picture of her husband looking at her. His file was short, showing that Abstergo didn't know who he was. Looking up at Melanie, she asked, "What makes him desirable to Abstergo?"

"His ancestors are linked to that of Subject 17," Melanie informed her. "Where Miles was descended from Sef Ibn-La'Ahad, Barton is descended from Sef's brother, Darim Ibn-La'Ahad. Where Miles was descended from Flavia Auditore, Barton is descended from Marcello Auditore. Barton has no connection to the Kenways but is connected some way to Shay Cormac."

Natasha couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Clint had been orphaned as a child, knowing little about his parents; he made his life from his eyesight, and his tactical and analytical skills in the army. Neither of them had ever known he was a, albeit far distant, relation to Desmond Miles. She rubbed the bridge of her nose; why was life so complicated? "What do we want him for?" she asked, dreading the ancestor.

"We want to him to help us decipher new information about a new project regarding twin assassins during the British Industrial Revolution," Melanie replied. "His bloodline is connected to theirs."

Natasha nodded. "I'll see what I can do," she informed the CCO.

Melanie nodded and stood to leave. "Oh and Natasha," she added, turning her head to look at the Russian, "Juhani and Violet don't know who Barton is. But as you and him are in some sort of relationship, I will try to keep it that way if you can convince him to help us," she informed the Russian.

Natasha's eyes slid closed. "I never knew of his ancestry, Melanie," she replied honestly.

"I know," Melanie replied kindly. "I just hope the higher ups don't tell Juhani or Violet. You're the only one I trust in this building."

Natasha nodded. "I'll contact him soon," she promised…

* * *

 

"Clint, there's something we need to speak about," William stated, making the archer look up.

"What's wrong?" Clint asked, leaning away from his desk. "Mentor?"

"We recently were able to get some of Abstergo's recent research on possible analysts they could hire," William informed him. "They did a bloodline research on them and we found this," he added, handing the archer a file.

Clint frowned and took the file, raising an eyebrow when he realised that the file was about him. He flicked past some pages – not many, he realised – to the pages on his ancestry. He looked up "I'm descended from Altair, Ezio and Shay," he stated rather than asked, disbelief colouring his words. "How?"

"It seems that Altair's son, Darim, had descendants who would later marry descendants of Ezio's son, Marcello, who would later give birth to Shay Patrick Cormac in New York City as Irish immigrants. Your mother was a descendant of Cormac," William informed him.

"My mother was a Templar?" Clint asked, his voice void of emotion.

William shook his head. "No. She was an Assassin-Templar infiltrator," he replied. "Your father, however, _was_ a Templar. He found out about your mother. Didn't tell his Grand Master. So they were both killed. After Achilles died, Shay showed sympathies towards the Assassins. He married an Assassin who was split between the two factions. The family was split between the two until you and Barney. Barney chose the Templars, you chose the Assassins."

Clint rubbed a hand over his face: his family, apart from Natasha, were a handful.

"What do you want me to do?" Clint asked as he looked up at the Mentor.

"Abstergo will want to recruit you. And will probably send Natasha to recruit you. I want you to let Natasha ' _recruit_ ' you. I'll feel better knowing the both of you are there, watching each other's backs," William replied. "Does Barney know you're an Assassin?"

Clint shook his head. "No. I haven't spoken to Barney since 1995."

"Okay. Let Natasha contact you," he instructed, standing up. "I'll be in contact with you through someone else. Be safe, Clint."

Clint nodded. "Yes, Mentor. You too."

* * *

 

Natasha sighed. Biting her lip, she picked up her phone and dialled her husband's number. "Hi," she breathed after he picked up on the first ring.

"Hi, Darling," he greeted. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "You up for a visit this weekend?"

"Did Christmas come early?" he replied and she could hear his grin. "Darling, any time I can get you home is an early Christmas present."

Natasha smiled "I'll bring lace," she promised. "I missed you," she informed him; the phone call was simply because she did miss him.

"I missed you too, Tasha," he answered. "Come home safe."

"I will. I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

 

Clint smiled as Natasha entered their apartment. He stood to take her bags but was stopped when Natasha wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her as they kissed. She moaned into his mouth and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Clint pressed Natasha against the closed front door, his hands moving to her thighs. He reluctantly pulled away from her lips and rested his head against hers. "Hi," he whispered, smiling softly.

"Hi," she whispered, returning his smile as she trailed her hands through his hair. "You are a sight for sore eyes," she whispered before she kissed him again.

"So are you," he whispered into her mouth. He pulled her away from the door and carried her to their bedroom. He gently laid her down before pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor. He leaned down and grinned as his wife ran her hands over his body as if reassuring herself that he was there with her. She pulled him down and kissed him deeply, moaning as she felt his weight on her.

Clint tugged her jacket off before pulling at her top. He growled and grabbed the shirt, tearing it through the middle. Natasha moaned and helped him pull the ruined fabric from her body. She tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants, whimpering when her husband pulled his lips away from hers. Instead, he kissed his way down her body, smiling as he unhooked her red lace bra with deft fingers – she always knew which of her lingerie drove him mad like when she wore red lace. He wrapped his lips around one of her nipples, earning a moan of approval from his wife. He brought his other hand to her other breast, palming it before tugging her nipple between his thumb and index finger, making Natasha cry out in response.

Natasha brought her hands to his hair as he played with her tits. She moaned his name as he teased her. It had been so long since she was with him, that if he continued, she would be coming before she was even fully naked. "Clint. Clint, please," she moaned, wanting to feel his naked skin on hers. "Please."

"Please what, Tasha?" he asked, pulling away from her breasts. "Tell me what you want and I'll do it," he promised.

"Us. Naked," she gasped, whimpering as her husband straddled her, not touching her. "Please," she added.

Clint nodded. He climbed off the bed and quickly stripped himself of the rest of his clothes. He watched as Natasha stripped herself of her jeans and left her thong on for him to decide what to do with it. He smiled and leaned down to kiss her hungrily, his hands going to either side of the waistband of her thong. "Was this expensive?" he mumbled into her mouth.

"Yes," she breathed against his lips. "But rip it," she added, breaking the kiss and raising her hips to allow him to do just that.

Clint let out a growl and lowered himself until he was face-to-face with her sex. He pulled the lace high against her clit before ripping the fabric. He didn't give her much time to process his actions before he buried his face in her sex. She cried out and bucked her hips up as he pushed his tongue inside her while using his thumb and forefinger to pinch and rub at her clit.

"Clint. Clint!" she cried out as she came hard, having been already at the edge before he even touched her sex. He pinned her hips to the mattress, letting her ride out her orgasm before diving back in. Clint slipped her thighs over his shoulders, groaning as he teased her. Natasha gripped the sheets of the bed hard, throwing her head back in pleasure, gasping his name.

The archer grinned against his wife's cunt, teasingly sliding his middle finger inside her, earning a guttural moan of approval from the red-head. "Clint," Natasha gasped, her breath stuttering as he added a second finger inside her. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Clint."

Clint continued to pump his fingers inside her, earning gasps and moans of approval from his wife. Slowly, he began to put pressure on her G-spot by curling his fingers upwards, earning several high-pitched moans from the red-head. Natasha groaned as she felt her second orgasm begin to reach its climax, knowing that Clint was doing his best to drive her over the edge of oblivion once again. She tossed her head back in pleasure, moaning his name as her walls and thighs began to shake in ecstasy.

The archer moved back up her body, until he reached her neck, biting down and sucking on her pulse point as she fell into the grips of her ecstasy for the second time of the night. Natasha screamed his name out as she came hard around his fingers, her whole body shaking from intense pleasure. Clint gently brought her down from her high, slowing his pace until her trembling muscles had dialled down to a minimal.

"Fuck," she gasped as her body settled back into the mattress, kissing him gently when he brought his lips to hers. "Even after three months, you haven't lost your ability to make me scream," she whispered before moaning when he pulled his fingers out of her.

"There is a reason you keep me, my pauk," he joked, kissing her gently as he straddled her hips. "I love you," he added, smiling against her lips as she moaned into his mouth.

"I love you too," Natasha whispered. She brought her hands up over Clint's abdomen and chest, slipping them around his neck as the archer teased her, grinding his hard erection against her left hip. "Want you to make love to me, Clint," she whispered, her fingers playing with the stray hairs on the nape of his neck. "Want you to make me forgot everything but you and me."

"Gladly," Clint whispered as Natasha reached down between them, grasping him firmly and positioning him at her entrance. Slowly, he pushed inside her, making them both groan and moan their approval as he stretched her. He paused when he bottomed out inside her, letting her adjust to his length

"Oh God," Natasha moaned, tossing her head back as he slowly began to thrust inside her. "Fuck. Clint. Yes."

Clint hiked her left leg over the crook of his elbow, sending him deeper inside her. "Want to hear you sing for me, Tasha," he purred into her ear. He pushed into her deeper and harder with each thrust. Each of his long, slow strokes earned pleasure-filled groans of pleasure from the red-head. "Sing for me, Tasha. Wanna hear you."

Natasha did as her husband asked. She cried out in pleasure with each thrust. Her nails were digging into the firm muscles of his back, her whole body shaking as he drove her towards another orgasm; she had never been this sensitive before. "Please," she moaned, her breath hitching in her throat as he hit her G-spot and clit with each movement of his hips. "Clint, please fill me up."

The archer moved his lips to her pulse point, sucking and nipping on her skin. His actions ensured the only word falling from her lips was his name. Hooking her right leg around his waist, one hand cupping her firm ass, Clint began to increase his pace. He moved faster and faster, each thrust only serving to move both of them further to their climax.

Natasha felt the familiar pooling of heat in her stomach once more, another tell-tale sign of her oncoming orgasm. She was so close. "Please, Clint. Please," she begged, her voice several octaves lower than usual.

Clint moved his mouth to captured Natasha's. "Let go," he whispered into her mouth huskily, knowing he was on the verge of his own orgasm. "Come on. Let go for me, Tasha. Come for me."

The red-head screamed in pleasure, tossing her head back in pleasure as she came hard around him. Her clenching walls pulled her husband into his own orgasm. She cried out his name as he shouted hers. He thrust once, twice more before burying himself deep inside her, filling her up with his seed.

Clint collapsed on top of Natasha, groaning her name into her chest as they came down from their highs. He pressed multiple kisses to her skin, slowly making his way up to her kiss-swollen lips. "I missed you, Tasha," he whispered against her lips.

"I missed you too, Clint," she whispered, returning his soft but passionate kiss.

Slowly, he rolled them over so Natasha was on top of him, continuing their lazy, loving trades of kisses...

* * *

 

Clint snickered as Natasha yelped when Lucky jumped onto the bed. The dog licked her face enthusiastically, his tail wagging happily. "Lucky!" Natasha protested, laughing at the dog as she pushed at his head, trying and failing to stop him.

When he deemed Natasha was losing her battle with their enthusiastic dog, Clint ordered Lucky to the end of the bed. The Labrador did as he was told, curling up at the bottom of the bed, his tail still waggling happily as he watched his owners. Clint wrapped an around his wife's waist, pulling her close as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

Natasha rested her head on Clint's chest, sighing as he tightened his hold around her waist. "Abstergo want me to recruit you for research based around twins during the British Industrial Revolution," she informed him, pressing a kiss to his sternum.

"Because I have some of the same ancestors as Desmond Miles," he answered, pressing his mouth to the crown of her head. "We can watch each other's backs. I can't let you go back without me, Tasha."

Natasha pressed herself deeper against his chest. "I wanted to keep you safe from my life as a Templar," she whispered. "Going into the Animus could do damage we can't undo," she stated, leaning up to look at him. "Please don't ask me to watch them take you from me like that."

Clint brought a hand up and cupped her face. "I have you to make sure I don't lose my mind," he replied. "I will know push myself further than _you_ need me to. You're not going to lose me, Tasha," he promised.

Natasha closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. "We make decisions together. I'm bringing you into Abstergo as _my_ recruit. You can't go cowboy on anything," she informed him, opening her eyes to look at him. "Only the higher ups and Melanie know that we're in a relationship. Not the extent of said relationship. Knowing us, it could become apparent who we are to each other."

Clint let out a possessive growl. "I'm not okay watching you flirting with anyone," he confessed. "I trust you. I don't trust them."

"Ditto," she whispered, kissing his palm. "I think we should be obvious about being together. Just not the fact that we're married."

Clint leaned down and kissed her softly. "I'll follow your lead, Tasha," he whispered.

Natasha kissed him back, tracing her hands over the scars on his chest. She paid particular interest to the scar he had suffered during a mission in Norway, running along his sternum near his heart. It had been the result of him being captured by the Instruments of the First Will, a small collective that was both an ally and enemy to both Assassins and Templars. One of their leaders, Loki Laufeyson, used a sceptre to slice her husband's chest when he refused to give the Norwegian information about the red-head or the Assassins. Natasha had taken it upon herself to get him out of the Hellhole he had been kept captive in – after his recovery, she promised herself that she would never relive that week of Hell.

"Never again," he promised, letting her push him down and beginning another round of love-making…

* * *

 

_**London, United Kingdom, 2005…** _

_Natasha struck out at Clint as he quickly moved out of her space. "Ublyudok!" she shouted at him, landing a fist on his jaw before he used her momentum to flip her over his body. He pinned her to the ground, using his weight to keep her pinned._

" _Natasha, stop!" he shouted, taking her hands in his and forced them above her head. "I'm not going to hurt you!"_

" _You're an Assassin!" she hissed at him. "My enemy. Ublyudok!" She tried to push him off of her but he used his weight correctly. "Let me go, you bastard!"_

_Clint rested his head on her sternum, breathing deeply as he waited for her to calm down. She thumped her head against the floor before relaxing under his touch. "You're my enemy, Clint," she whispered, her voice tight from unshed tears; he had played her like a fool. "The last few months mean nothing now."_

_Clint sighed sadly, fighting back tears of his own. "If that's what you want," he whispered, letting her go. He stood up and waited until she stood up as well. "I'll watch your back. As long as I can," he promised her. "No matter if you hate me."_

_Natasha looked at him, her eyes void of any emotion that he had come to know so intimately over the past six months. "Goodbye, Clint," she whispered before walking out of his apartment._

_Clint fell back against his bed, tears slowly falling as the front door shut and Natasha walked away from his life…_

* * *

 

_**Moscow, Russia, 2005…** _

_Natasha took a deep breath as she read the report again and again. That fucking idiot had gotten himself captured. She dropped the report and buried her face in her hands, taking deep breaths. She hadn't slept properly since she left him in London two weeks ago. And now the bastard had gotten himself kidnapped by some stupid cult group that were obsessed with something that had yet to be proven actually existed._

" _Fuck!" she cursed under her breath, raising her head to look up at the ceiling. If he died before she could get her hands on him, she would find a way to bring him back and kill him herself. Over and over again. She picked up her phone and dialled the number of a friend – a man neither Assassin nor Templar but the one in between._

" _Natalia," he greeted on the second ring. "How can I help you?"_

" _James, I need your help finding the leader of the cult, The Instruments of the First Will," she informed him, knowing how he hated when people beat around the bush._

" _Loki Laufeyson?" he replied; his vast amount of contacts always surprised the red-head. "He's in Drammen, Norway. Why are you looking for him?"_

_Natasha bit her lip and debated what she would tell him. Deciding he would figure it out sooner or later, she told him, "He kidnapped someone I care for. I want to get said person out of Laufeyson's hands before they can be hurt."_

" _Clint Barton?" he asked, and Natasha could hear his smug grin. "Former Recon sniper for the US military, linked with Assassins but not confirmed – he was an orphan who never knew who his parents were, protected by Assassins for one reason or another – and an excellent strategic analyst."_

_Natasha rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Do you know where Laufeyson is holding Clint?" she asked, not recognising her voice as she spoke – she was scared._

" _In an abandoned warehouse outside the city near the coast. I'll send you the information and layout."_

_"Thank you, James," she whispered. "How's Eva and Adrianna?" she asked, trying to distract herself._

_"Eva's fine, apart from the postnatal period," he answered. "Adrianna's perfect. Like her mother."_

_Natasha smiled. "Thank you, James," she repeated; her oldest friend was always there when she needed him._

" _No problem, Natalia. I can ask some friends if they can help you?" he offered._

_Natasha bit her bottom lip; she knew little to nothing about this Loki Laufeyson. Help could make sure she got Clint out in a relatively safe condition. "Please."_

" _Remember Steve?" he asked._

_Natasha could picture said man; tall, blonde, perfect torso in ratio to a Dorito, former American Captain of the recon team. He had been one of James' teammates. "Yes. The Captain?"_

" _Yeah, him. He has a team, supported by the American government and the rest of the UN. Black Ops team, if you want to put it into a category. Their objective is to protect any citizens from terrorist groups such as the Al-Qaeda. The Instruments of the First Will are not listed as terrorists but what they have done is taken an American citizen hostage without any just cause. Therefore Steve and his team can interfere with this as it is an international incident which resolves around the unjust capture of an American citizen."_

" _Who's on the team?" Natasha asked._

" _The team is made up by two factions. One under Steve, the other under Phil Coulson whom is a friend of Clint's," he informed her. "Under Steve's team, codename, The Avengers, there are the following members;  
_ _Steve Rogers – team leader, American.  
_ _Sam Wilson – specialist/pilot. American.  
_ _Thor Odinson – heavy weapons. Norwegian.  
_ _Bruce Banner – field medic. American.  
_ _Tony Stark – weapons specialist. American.  
_ _Pietro Maximoff – recon. Slovakian.  
_ _Wanda Maximoff – recon. Slovakian.  
_ _Sharon Carter – intelligence officer. American.  
_ _Under Phil, there are:  
_ _Phil Coulson – team leader. American.  
_ _Melinda May – specialist/pilot. Chinese-American.  
_ _Daisy "Skye" Coulson – sniper. Chinese-American.  
_ _Grant Ward – specialist. American.  
_ _Bobbi Morse – specialist. American.  
_ _Lance Hunter – specialist. British.  
_ _Jemma Simmons – scientist/doctor. British  
_ _Leo Fitz – weapons specialist. British"_

_Natasha rubbed her eyes. "At least seven of those agents are Assassins," she stated rather than asked. Phil was the Assassin who recruited Clint; he was Clint's father figure and mentor in the Brotherhood. Melinda was a former CIA operative and Phil's wife. Grant Ward was a specially trained American agent for foreign infiltration missions. Skye was Phil and Melinda's daughter; trained alongside Grant._ _She had met Pietro and Wanda before; Clint mentored the both of them after saving them during a mission when he was still in the army. Both were Assassins. Thor was a Norwegian Assassin, son of two Assassins._

_As for the rest of the team. She knew less about them; Sam Wilson had worked with Steve and James in the army. Steve was James' oldest friend and teammate. Sharon Carter was Steve's girlfriend and a former CIA operative. Bruce Banner was a respected scientist/doctor working for the American military. Tony Stark was wanted by Abstergo for his company's resources in weapons manufacturing and technology developments; believed to be funding the Assassins. Bobbi Morse was an old girlfriend's of Clint – they were like brother and sister now; Clint gave her away when she got married to Lance Hunter. Hunter was a former British SAS soldier. Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons were two of the youngest scientist to be employed by both the British and American governments._

" _And none of them know that you are a Templar, Natalia. I work with both teams regularly. I can vouch for each and every one of them," he promised._

_Natasha sighed. "Get them," she answered. "I need Clint out in one piece."_

" _I promise these two teams will deliver that, Natalia."_

* * *

_**Oslo, Norway, 2005…** _

_Natasha watched each of the team members as they sorted through their equipment for the mission. She was analysing each of their movements when she was approached by Phil. She raised an eyebrow at him._

" _You're worried about Clint," he stated rather than asked._

" _If I wasn't worried, why would I ask for two Special Black Ops teams to help me get him out," she deadpanned._

" _Russian intelligence officer willing to help a former American sniper. That doesn't raise questions?" he replied._

" _My personal life does not define my career, Mr. Coulson. For your information, I'm supposed to be on medical leave for two months due to injuries sustained in the field. That doesn't stop my inbox from filling up," she replied, her voice deadly low._

_Phil took a moment to take in what the red-head had just told him. "Someday you will need to train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose," he told her._

" _Star Wars. Seriously?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him; she had gone with Clint to see the latest movie when it had come out._

_Phil shrugged. "Yoda's advice is quite sound," he answered. "But this time, we can accept that in this case to ignore his words of wisdom."_

_Natasha looked him square in the eye. "When you've already lost everything that once made you who you were, you will cling to those who remind you that losing everything doesn't mean you're broken," she answered. "That's what Clint means to me."_

_Phil nodded. He placed a comforting hand on Natasha's shoulder. "We'll bring him home."_

* * *

_**Drammen, Norway, 2005…** _

_Natasha kicked one of the guards in the head before using his falling body to push herself up and wrap her legs around the other guard's neck and throwing him to the floor with a broken neck. She shot the remaining two guards as her feet hit the ground. She used one of her Hidden Blades to unlock the door. She threw the door opened and quickly checked the room._

_She almost got sick as she took in the scene. Clint was chained to the ceiling, his hand pulled above his head, his feet dangling, toes barely touching the ground. There was a large scar running the length of his sternum, deep. Securing the room, she raced over to him. "Clint," she whispered, cupping his face in her left hand while she used her other hand to check his pulse. She sighed in relief when she found a pulse, albeit slow. "Clint," she repeated louder._

" _Tasha?" he managed to get out after coughing a few times. "Tasha," he repeated, opening his eyes slowly to look at her. "You are a sight for sore eyes," he told her with a bloody smile._

" _What did they do to you?" she breathed, reaching up and undoing his chains, catching him as his death weight came down._

" _They wanted info. On you and the Brotherhood. Mostly you. I didn't tell them anything," he promised. "I missed you," he added, bringing a weak hand up to cup her face. "You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."_

_Natasha slowly laid Clint down on the floor and radioed her location to the rest of the team. "Stay with me, Clint," she told him as she looked down at him. "Don't die on me."_

_He raised a hand to cup her face. "Will you leave me again?" he asked, his voice low and heavy. "Don't think I could live through that again, Tasha."_

_Natasha almost cried. "Keep fighting for me," she whispered. "Keep fighting to stay with me and I'll stay," she promised just as the medics of the two teams arrived. She held his hand as they worked around her, Clint refusing to let her go…_

* * *

_**London, United Kingdom, 2005…** _

_Natasha was curled up in the chair beside Clint's bed, holding his hand as they both slept fitfully. The red-head looked up when Steve Rogers entered the room._

" _Your Bucky's ex," he stated rather than asked._

_Natasha cocked her head to the side. "And now he's married and has a little girl. Who James has asked me to be Godmother to. Why are you asking me?"_

_Steve sat down in the other chair. "He told me," he started, "That you only asked for help when you were scared that you couldn't accomplished. That the fact that_ you _requested the teams to help you meant that Clint means more to you than even you are willing to admit."_

_Natasha sat up and looked at Clint's sleeping form. "There are dozens of people who will take your breath away. But the one who reminds you to breathe is the one you should keep," she quoted. She looked back at the Captain. "I've been through enough in life to know what it's like to lose someone. And when you find someone who makes it easier to sleep at night, you do everything in your power to keep them safe because they're worth living for and dying for."_

_Steve nodded, thinking about how it had taken him a while to adjust back to life after his duty. Being with Sharon helped. "I understand. But we got him out, Natasha," he stated, "He's going to be okay."_

_Natasha turned to look at Clint, regretting ever walking out on him before he had the chance to explain himself. "Natasha," Steve interrupted, making her look back at him. "He begged the doctors to let him see you. To know you were safe. Whatever you feel for him is requited," he informed her as he stood up. "Whatever fight you two had, is not worth losing each other for."_

_Natasha nodded. "Thank you, Steve," she told him as he exited the room. She brought Clint's hand to her mouth, kissing his knuckles softly. "Wake up, Clint. Please, please, wake up. Please don't leave me," she whispered against his skin. "Please don't leave me."_

* * *

_Clint groaned as he tried to sit up. Natasha helped him, placing pillows behind his back. He groaned and leaned into her touch. "Take it easy," she whispered, gently easing him down onto the pillows._

" _I feel useless," he muttered, pulling on her hands to get her to climb into the bed beside him. "The scars are going to be a pain," he added, glancing down at the bandages covering his bare chest and arms._

_Natasha moved and gently moved to bring her hand over his chest. "I don't know who said it but I once read that you should ever be ashamed of a scar. It simply means you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you," she whispered. "You survived Clint. You made it out."_

" _Back to you," he whispered, leaning forward and kissing her softly. "Always back to you."_

_Natasha smiled softly. "I love you, Clint," she whispered._

" _I love you too, Tasha," he whispered, hugging her to him with his less injured arm…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER: we shall delve through more of what happened after Natasha rescued Clint ;)


	5. New Player

**_London, United Kingdom, 2005…_ **

_Natasha smiled softly. "I love you, Clint," she whispered._

_"I love you too, Tasha," he whispered, hugging her to him with his less injured arm…_

* * *

_Natasha woke with her nose buried in Clint's chest, her ear resting over his heartbeat. She sighed in relief at the steady thump of his heartbeat under her ear. She pressed her lips to his sternum before climbing out of the bed. She was wearing a pair of Clint's sweatpants and one of his Bruce Springsteen's T-Shirts. She made her way out into the kitchen, turning on the coffee machine for Clint as she made breakfast._

_She had just finished making the last batch of pancakes when she heard Clint limp into the kitchen with his crutches. "You're supposed to be in bed," she informed him, flipping the last pancake onto the plate before making her way over to him. "The Doctor's orders were clear," she added as she stopped in front of him, watching him carefully. She didn't touch him, waiting for him to make the first move._

_"You stayed," Clint replied, making Natasha pause in surprise. "You stayed even though you have every right to leave and never come back. But you did come back. And you stayed," he continued; it had been almost three weeks since he had been rescued and Natasha hadn't left despite their fight two weeks before their fight._

_"If I left, would you let yourself be captured and tortured again?" she asked, watching him carefully._

_Clint kept his eyes locked with hers before he slowly nodded, not trusting his voice to speak._

_Natasha's eyes slid closed as she sighed. "You never lied to me," she stated, opening her eyes again to look at him. "You just kept secrets from me because you didn't want our affiliations to come between us. It was wrong of me to leave before you had the chance to explain yourself," she continued, closing the distance between them and gently wrapping her arms around his waist. "Even after I left, thinking of you made it easier for me to sleep," she confessed, her voice muffled slightly against his chest. "I was so scared when I found out that you had been kidnapped."_

_Clint let the crutches fall so he could hug her back. "I've been afraid that one morning I'll wake up and you'll be gone," he confessed, burying his face in her hair. "I wanted to keep you safe. And I only hurt you in the process," he continued, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. "I don't want to live without you."_

_Natasha lifted her head and kissed him softly. "I'm not leaving you. Doesn't mean that I won't work but I'm not leaving us again," she promised as she slowly pulled away from his lips._

_Clint smiled, his relief obvious in his features; he would take anything he could ever hope for from her. "I love you," he whispered, kissing her again._

_Natasha smiled against his lips. "I love you too," she whispered, breaking the kiss when she heard his stomach growl. "Breakfast. I know what you're like when you're hungry," she teased him._

_Clint nodded and let Natasha help him over to the kitchen counter. Maybe things were finally looking up for him. For them…_

* * *

**Montreal, Canada, 2015…**

Natasha led Clint through the security and towards the elevator. "Melanie, Juhani and Violet are waiting for us up in the CCO's office," she informed him.

"I feel important," he joked, leaning on the railing as Natasha turned on the elevator with her tablet. "Do all new recruits get called to the principal's office on their first day to school?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow at her husband. "Your jokes will be lost on Violet and Juhani," she informed him. "But generally, no. They get their introduction on the research level."

"I'm getting special treatment," he teased, stepping closer to her until she looked up from her tablet.

"You're an idiot," she informed him as he cornered her against the wall of the elevator. "Honey, we're at work," she told him as he leaned down.

"Never stopped you before," he commented and kissed her deeply, making her groan into his mouth. He pushed her against the wall, parting her lips with his tongue.

When the elevator came to a stop, Natasha pushed him off of her gently. "We can continue this later," she informed him, walking out of the elevator towards the office. Clint grinned and followed after her.

Natasha greeted the secretary before walking into the office with Clint, finding Juhani pacing the office while Melanie sat at her desk and Violet sat on the meeting table. "Morning," she greeted, raising an eyebrow at the Norwegian pacing the office. "Pacing increases blood pressure, especially for old men," she informed the older man.

Juhani turned and glared at the red-head before noticing Clint. "You bring your toy-boy along with you to everything now?" he asked.

Natasha cocked her head to the side. "This is Clint Barton," Natasha introduced. "A new analyst for the new project. And he's my husband, not my toy-boy," she added, returning Juhani's glare. "Jealous?"

"Hardly," Juhani replied. "Other than helping your wife, is there any other reason you're here, Mr. Barton?" he asked the younger man.

Clint cocked his head to the side, his stance confident and relaxed. "My wife asked me to help her with her work," he answered. "I'm a former sniper for the US Army who lost his hearing during a six month tour in Afghanistan. I'm naturally observant and Natasha wanted me to help her with my natural ability. Is that a problem, _Sir_?" he replied, raising an eyebrow at the older man.

Juhani made a move but was cut off when Melanie commented, "Husband and wife working together? That might be an advantage to us."

Everyone turned to look at Melanie.

"Why?" Violet asked from where she sat on the table, raising an eyebrow at Melanie.

"Because if he betrays us, he ruins his marriage," Melanie replied with a shrug of her shoulders, looking at Clint and Natasha. "Wouldn't it?"

"Nat would kill me and find a way to bring me back just to kill me again," Clint agreed, making Natasha smirk at his choice of words.

"Does he pass your test, Juhani?" Natasha asked sarcastically. When the older man nodded, Natasha turned back to Melanie. "Has my office been updated for Clint to work there as well?" she asked.

Melanie nodded. "Yes. If there's anything you need, let me know. Clint's equipment is there too."

Natasha nodded and left the office with Clint in tow. As the door closed, she heard Violet ask, "So do we call her Romanoff, Barton, or Romanoff-Barton?"

Clint smirked at Natasha as they entered the elevator. "So what will they call you?" he asked.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Our marriage certificate says Natasha Barton," she answered, leaning against the wall. "What do you think?"

Clint grinned. "I knew you loved me," he replied, leaning towards her and stealing a chaste kiss.

"I wonder why," she muttered against his lips before he pulled away. "Behave while we're working, Clint," she told him, half serious.

"Where's the fun in that?" he replied with a cheeky grin…

* * *

Natasha watched Clint carefully as he climbed into the Animus. She checked his vitals as he laid his head back. He smiled reassuringly at her as she stood next to him. "I'll be fine, Tasha," he promised.

She took a deep breath and nodded. Leaning down, she kissed her softly. "See you on the other side," she whispered as she slowly pulled away from his lips. She watched him as he closed his eyes and let the Animus take him into the memories.

She walked over to the monitor and put in her comm. so she could communicate with Clint's consciousness. "You okay?" she asked.

' _This feels weird_ ,' he replied, looking around him as the Animus loaded. ' _Is it always like this?_ '

"Usually," she answered. "I have to let the Animus go through your DNA to find the right strand for the twins," she informed him. "You might have other memories from other ancestors in between."

' _Would that be good or bad?_ ' Clint asked as he slowly watched his surroundings materialise; by his surroundings he knew he was in a Mediterranean country sometime in the Middle Ages.

"Depends on your ancestors," Natasha answered. "And at the moment, it seems like we will have some of your other ancestors."

Clint looked around him then down at himself. ' _Am I in a Mediterranean country following the Third Crusade?_ ' he asked Natasha, noticing the way his voice sounded different yet familiar.

"You're such a nerd," she muttered, shaking her head. "Yes. You're reliving some of Altair's memories," she noted, watching Clint's vitals as they were compared to Desmond's; they were similar but there were obvious differences. Clint was fitter than Desmond had been at the time of his introduction to the Animus. And their heritage only matched to Altair and Ezio.

' _Year?_ ' Clint asked, ignoring Natasha's comment about being a nerd.

"1195," she answered.

Clint frowned in thought. ' _Oh… Ah. I'm not by any chance in Limassol, Cyprus, am I?_ ' he asked, hiding in the crowd as he walked around.

"Yes. Why?" Natasha asked.

' _In 1195, Altair and Maria Thorpe married in Limassol before returning to Masyaf where their oldest son, Darim, was born later in the year. Darim was conceived in Limassol._ '

Natasha rubbed her forehead. "Nerd. I married a fucking nerd," she muttered to herself. "Figure out why this memory came up and see where it leads you."

' _I'm not a nerd,_ ' he answered before turning as he felt someone approaching him. ' _Game time_ ,' he commented before allowing Altair's consciousness to overcome his own…

* * *

_Altair turned around to find Markos and Maria approaching him. "Are you trying to get yourself lost, my love?" Maria teased him as she approached him, tilting her head ever-so-slightly to look up at him._

_Altair grinned. "Never, my love," he answered as she stepped closer to him. He looked at Markos when the other man coughed._

_"I managed to find a priest willing to marry you two," Markos informed them._

_Maria smirked as Altair raised an eyebrow at their friend. "Out of honour to the Cypriots who have allowed you to set up an Assassin base here and helping them run out the Templars," she added._

_Altair turned his head to Maria. "My love, your cleverness is beyond me," he told her._

_Maria cocked her head to the side. "You can repay me later," she informed him, low enough so Markos couldn't hear her words._

_Altair smiled and let Maria and Markos lead him through the streets…_

* * *

_Later, Altair found himself alone with his wife. Maria was standing at the side of the room, slowly stripping out of her clothes. He watched her before he begun to strip himself. He smiled as Maria beckoned him to come closer to her. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, leaning down and kissing her passionately._

_Maria moaned into the kiss, letting her husband guide her down onto the rugs. "Make love to me, Altair," she whispered as he broke the kiss to look at her. "My husband," she added with a smile._

_Altair returned her smile. "Always, my wife," he promised, leaning down and kissing her deeply…_

* * *

_Altair kissed his wife softly as she moved to curl against him. Her arm rested across her husband's waist while his hands rested on her stomach and hip protectively…_

* * *

The memory focused on Maria's stomach, Clint's Eagle Vision showing him the life-forms of Altair and Maria beginning to intertwine. Clint was slowly pulled out of the Animus as the memory faded and he was brought back to reality.

Clint groaned as he came out of the Animus. Natasha was beside him, helping him sit up. "I wasn't expecting that," he informed her as he sat up. He rested his head against her sternum as he waited for the world to stop spinning. "I believe I just witnessed the conception of Darim," he mumbled.

Natasha gently ran her hands through his hair as he leaned against her chest. "You okay?" she whispered, pressing her lips to the top of her husband's head.

Clint brought his arms around her waist and pulled her close before he lifted his head to catch her lips in a soft, reassuring kiss. She moaned into the kiss and let him pull her closer to him.

Eventually, he pulled away. "That a good answer?" he asked, smiling at her.

Natasha chuckled and shook her head. "Nerd," she whispered as Clint kept his hands on her hips. "You are a nerd."

Clint grinned and shook his head. "Then I'm a nerd with a gorgeous wife," he informed her before kissing her again.

Natasha stepped between her husband's legs and brought her other hand to rest on his shoulder. The other tightened in his hair as she deepened the kiss.

Suddenly, they both heard a cough behind them. They pulled away, Natasha's eyes widening when she spotted Melanie standing at the door of their office. Natasha immediately stepped back from Clint as he stood up, both facing Melanie.-

"That must have been a good session," Melanie commented cheekily, making both Natasha and Clint blush deeper. "I just came to say hello and see how Clint was settling in," she stated. "I don't need to be worried obviously."

Natasha and Clint refused to look at Melanie. As Melanie moved to leave, she shot over her shoulder, "You know your apartment doesn't have cameras and you two are the only ones are able to open it." With that she was gone.

Clint snickered as Natasha brought her hand to her face. "I think that went well," he commented, turning to look at his wife.

Natasha lifted her head and glared at him half-heartedly. "Not funny," she told him, walking over to the desk where his vitals during his short time in the Animus.

Clint followed her, watching her as she looked over the notes. He rested his chin on her shoulder and inspected his own vitals. "How did I do?" he asked, bringing his arms up to wrap them around her waist.

"Better than Desmond," she replied honestly. "You're fitter than when he was the first time he went into the Animus. And the software has been updated since then. You have a better chance at exploring more of Altair's memories than Desmond did."

Clint nodded. "But the chances of that happening at the moment are slim because the memories showed me the conception of Darim. Like Desmond was shown the conception of Sef," he stated. "The Animus followed the line of my ancestry."

Natasha bit her bottom lip. "We don't know who else you're related to," she commented. "

Clint frowned. "Is that a problem?" he whispered.

"Desmond's ancestors were all affiliated with Pieces of Eden," she stated. "These Pieces can bring about the end of the world, Clint. The fact that your ancestors intertwine with Desmond's… What other artefacts are out there?"

Clint pressed his lips to Natasha's temple. "We'll take it one step at a time," he promised her.

Natasha twisted her head to look up at him. "Let's get back to work," she offered, changing the subject.

"Okay," Clint agreed, letting his wife show him the vitals of all the other subjects, including Desmond's, and comparing the notes to his own…

* * *

**_London, United Kingdom, 2005…_ **

_Natasha sat on the bed as she watched Clint sleep peacefully. She smiled as he turned towards her in his sleep, the low moonlight spilling through the curtains. She brought one hand up and ran her fingers through his hair. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his forehead before getting up to get stripped into a T-shirt, one of Clint's, to wear to bed._

_She sighed as she took off her bra and let her pants fall to the floor. She grabbed the Bruce Springsteen T-shirt and pulled it over her head before turning around, finding Clint watching her sleepily through hooded eyes. She smirked at him and made her way back over to the bed, putting an extra sway to her hips as she moved._

_Clint became more attentive at her actions, sitting up as she climbed into the bed beside him. "Hi," he whispered, leaning forward and kissing her softly, bringing one hand up to cup the back of her head, his other hand resting on the small of her back._

_"Hi," she mumbled against his lips, letting her pull him into his lap. "You were supposed to be sleeping," she added as she slowly broke the kiss and pulled back to look him in the eye, moving so her knees were on either side of his hips, allowing her to straddle him._

_Clint grinned up at her. "And miss you stripping almost naked. I think I'll pass on sleep," he replied, kissing her again._

_Natasha let herself get lost in his kiss, both her hands finding their way to Clint's hair. She moaned and let him pull her closer to his body, her clothed breasts pressed up against his bare chest. Then she remembered. Pulling away, she shook her head. "Clint, you're still hurt. We can't get carried away," she whispered breathlessly, trying to catch the breath her lover had just kissed out of her._

_Clint grinned and shook his head. "I'm fine," he promised, leaning forward to kiss her again. But she pulled back, looking at him worriedly. "I got the all clear earlier," he informed her as he slowly twisted them and guided her down onto the bed, kissing her softly. "If anything hurts, I'll cry like a baby," he promised against her lips._

_Natasha moaned and let him strip her of his T-shirt before pulling him back down on top of her. "Promise?" she mumbled into his mouth._

_He nodded and broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers. "I want to show you how much I missed you," he whispered, using his elbows to hold his weight off of her. "I love you," he whispered, as if it was a secret for only her to hear._

_Natasha smiled up at him. She brought her arms around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair. "I love you too," she whispered, pulling at the waistband of his boxer shorts. "I want to feel all of you, Clint," she added as he kissed her softly. "Please."_

_Clint helped her rid him of his boxers before bringing his hands to her panties. She lifted her hips and let him pull the soaking wet fabric down her legs. She bucked her hips when he planted his lips on her sex. Clint groaned as he tasted her._

_Her thong was thoroughly soaked from her juices when he pulled it down her legs. He pushed two fingers inside her, crooking them upwards while dragging his tongue along her. One of Natasha's hands flew to grasp at the sheets, moaning his name loudly as he feasted on her. Her hips undulated under his mouth._

_"Clint. Clint. Clint. Yes. Yes. Clint," she pleaded, moaning as he pushed a third finger inside her. He moved his fingers at a steady rough pace, pushing them upwards to drive her mad. Her fluttering walls were a clear sign she was so close, so close to coming for him. He wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking hard. And it was all she needed to come hard. She screamed his name loudly as she came, her thighs coming up to clench around his head and her back arched off the bed as she rode out her orgasm._

_Clint continued to lap at her as she rode out her orgasm. He didn't pay any attention to the fact that her thighs tightened around his head; if he was to die right there and then, he would die a happy man to die._

_Natasha knew that if she let Clint continue he was going to push her into another orgasm. And as much as she was greedy for another one, she wanted to give her lover the same attention he had so kindly bestowed on her. She reached down and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him up so she could kiss him. She moaned at the taste of herself on his lips, her nails digging into his scalp when she gripped at his hair. He groaned into the kiss, grinding against her as they kissed._

_Eventually, Natasha flipped them over so she was on top. Breaking the kiss, she smirked at him mischievously as he watched her, his eyes almost black with lust. "My turn, Hawk," she whispered, leaning down and dragging her lips down his body._

_Clint groaned her name loudly as Natasha slowly, teasingly, made her way down his body, stripping him off his boxers as she did. She sucked and nipped on his skin, sneakily bringing one hand down to grip his cock firmly as she nipped playfully on his left hip. "Fuck. Tasha. Don't tease."_

_Natasha smiled devilishly up at Clint and sat on her knees. She pushed her hair over one shoulder so it wouldn't get in her way while pleasing him with her mouth. She caught him staring at her when she smirked up at him. She sent him a warm smile, trailing her nails over his stomach, making him relax. She bent down and ran her tongue along his whole length, making him swear loudly in reply. She repeated it again, swirling her tongue around the head, just to tease him. To make him realise that she was going to drive him insane. His resulting groan of pleasure echoed in her ears. She smirked smugly; she loved the fact that she was making him make these sounds._

_"Tasha. Fuck. Please, sweetheart," he begged._

_Natasha slowly pulled her mouth off of his cock, smirking up at him as she continued to drag her hand along him. "Too much, hotshot?" she teased. She smirked when he growled at her before squealing in surprise when Clint suddenly pulled her up his body so he could claim her lips once more._

_Clint rolled them around so he was back on top of her, kissing her hungrily, deeply. He caught her wrists, pinning them to the pillow above her head and broke the kiss, nuzzling her jawline playfully. "Tasha. Can I make love to you?" he whispered, kissing up and down her neck softly. "Can I show you how sorry I am for hurting you?"_

_Natasha nodded, twisting her head to catch Clint's lips softly. "Please. Please, Clint. Make love to me," she whispered against his lips. "You have nothing to apologise for," she added, deepening the kiss. She grinded her sex along his cock. "Why don't you just stick your thick cock inside me and make me scream for you?"_

_Clint kept her wrists pinned with one hand, using his other hand to grab his cock firmly, stroking it slowly as he pressed his velvet head against her clit. "How much do you want me Natasha? How much do you want me inside you? Stretching you up? Filling you up? Is that what you want? Is that what you want? My cock deep inside you?"_

_Natasha gasped an affirmative along with Clint's name at his teasing action. The red-head was getting wetter at the thought of her archer sliding into her, claiming her body once again. She bit her bottom lip as she watched her lover stroke his cock while rubbing against her clit. He was doing this just to tease her – he wanted her to beg him to make love to her. Like she teased him._

_Clint smirked smugly at Natasha's reaction to his teasing, watching the red-head's lips part as she waited in anticipation. "You like that, Tasha?" the archer taunted as he rubbed the head of his cock along her slit before slapping it against her clit gently and teasingly._

_Natasha moaned her lover's name sinfully as he continued to slide the head of his cock over her clit. "Please. Clint. Make love to me. Clint," the red-head moaned, bucking her hips up slightly to try to get Clint exactly where she wanted him. "Make me yours."_

_Clint growled possessively as he slowly slid his cock into Natasha's cunt. They both moaned in mutual pleasure as her filled up her pussy, his forehead resting against hers. The red-head wrapped her legs around his waist, sending him deep inside her cunt. He let her hands go, thrusting deeper inside her by letting her wrists go so he could pull her closer to him, his hands finding her hips with ease._

_"Natasha," Clint whispered breathlessly, giving her time to adjust to having him inside her._

_"Yours. Fuck. Clint," Natasha moaned in Russian, bucking her hips in an attempt to make him move. She was rewarded by Clint pulling out until only the head of his cock was inside her before pushing inside her, nipping on her pulse point teasingly. His left hand gripped her hip hard enough to bruise her while he brought his right hand up to massage her tits firmly. He grinned as he whispered in her ear, whispered all the naughty things he wanted to do to her, every dirty fantasy he's ever had about her. And she moaned in agreement to his words._

_"That's right," Clint whispered into her ear with a breathless chuckle. "My Tasha. My dirty Tasha. You like that?" he whispered as he moved to hit her G-spot repeatedly._

_"Oh god yes," Natasha moaned in Russian, tossing her head back in pleasure as he hit all the right spots inside her cunt. The red-head ran her nails down the length of her lover's back in order to grip his ass, wanting to get his cock as deep inside of her as was humanely possible. She had missed this; she had almost lost him. And she couldn't do anything to change the fact that she was petrified of losing the one person who had taught her to love again. She untangled her left leg from around his waist and hooked it up onto his right shoulder, making Clint groan in pleasure in response to her actions._

_"Natasha. Fuck. Yes," Clint groaned as he buried his face in the crook of the red-head's neck. He continued to thrust into Natasha with deep, precise movements. He nipped and sucked on her skin, thrusting harder against her. He groaned her name in pleasure, needing her closer to him._

_"You're so big," Natasha whispered into his ear. "You fill me up so good. I'm so full, Clint." She brought her lips to nibble and suck on the sensitive skin right behind his earlobe just as Clint caught her wrists again and pinned them down onto the bed. "Yes. Yes. Please. More."_

_"You're so naughty, Tasha," Clint growled against the skin of her neck. The archer moaned as Natasha wrapped her legs tighter around him, pulling him deeper inside her. "You're so fucking wet for me."_

_Natasha bit her bottom lip as Clint ran his hands all over her body. He worked their bodies expertly, moving their hips in perfect sync as if they had never been apart. The red-head had never been treated so tenderly and felt so loved and happy yet he wasn't threating her like a porcelain doll._

_She slowly flipped them over so she was in control, her hands resting on his chest for balance while Clint rested his on her hips lovingly and protectively. The new angle let his cock reach as deep as he could go inside her; and she loved it. The red-head kept her eyes on her lover's, unable to stop the moans and whimpers escaping her lips. "Clint. Fuck. Please," the red-head whispered as she rocked her hips slowly against his, rising every now and again to add more pressure on her clit. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," she moaned._

_Clint grinned at Natasha as he wrapped his left arm around her body, sitting up while he brought his right hand to cup her ass affectionately. He could safely admit that he loved the feeling of her firm ass in his hand. He slowly kissed Natasha chastely before pulling back and whispering softly in Russian, "Tasha… I love you."_

_Natasha smiled and leaned down, kissing him gently. "I love you too, Clint," she whispered, nuzzling his cheek with her nose. She smiled when he pulled her closer, his roughened hands grasping her ass firmly, his fingers digging into the flesh possessively._

_Clint smiled and pulled her closer to his body. "Fuck," he moaned just as Natasha pushed him so he was lying back down on his bed. She rode him hard, letting him know she was close to falling over the edge._

_Clint used both his hands to cup Natasha's ass, using the strength of his arms to help her move up and down on his cock. He braced his feet on the bed so he could thrust up inside her with each movement of their hips. The red-head's back arched, panting in pleasure as she felt him drive himself into her with hard long thrusts._

_He let himself relax back down into the mattress and held her hips firmly as he drove himself up and into her repeatedly. His thrusts were slow and hard but deep, making her mouth fall open in response. Natasha had to bring her hands to balance on his chest. She came like that; arched over him, screaming his name and looking like the most beautiful thing Clint had ever seen in his life. He followed soon after her, roaring her name as he spilled his seed inside her, her walls milking him for all he was worth. Natasha collapsed on top of him, the two gasping for air as they slowly came down from their highs together._

_"I missed you, Tasha," he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of her head._

_"I'm never walking out on you again," she promised, kissing the scar on his chest softly._

* * *

**Montreal, Canada, 2015…**

They got home around eleven pm, Clint exhausted from going twice more into the Animus. He relived more of Altair's memories but nothing that would tell them anything about the Apple of Eden, the device that would allow its control to brainwash those around them.

Natasha watched as Clint sat down on their bed, looking dead on his feet. She walked over to him and pushed him under the covers gently.

"Tasha, I'm fine," he slurred, too tired to actually put up much of a fight.

Natasha shook her head at him. "Go to sleep, Clint," she whispered, kissing his forehead softly before pulling off his jeans and T-shirt so he was down to his boxers. "Sleep."

"Love you, Tasha," he mumbled before he passed out.

Natasha smiled at her husband's sleeping form, kissing his forehead again. She stood up and stripped off her own clothes before pulling on her stolen Bruce Springsteen's T-shirt. She made her way to the bathroom and looked in the medicine cabinet. Biting her bottom lip, she decided that it was time to see whether or not she had been right or not.

She did as the instructions said, waiting three minutes. When it time was up, she looked.

"Oh shit," Natasha cursed as she looked down at the pink plus signs on all six pregnancy tests…


End file.
